


In Season

by SeeMaree



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluffy, baker!peeta, farmer!katniss, foodcentric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:25:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeMaree/pseuds/SeeMaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Peeta wants is to find morel mushrooms for his famous pasties.  When he stumbles across the farm belonging to Katniss Everdeen he finds a lot more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morels in Spring

Still no morels. 

The customers aren’t pleased. Peeta’s mushroom pasties have become rather well known over the last few years, and he’s usually been selling them for at least a week by now. But ever since Rory, the cheerful teenager who delivered the produce, had been replaced, the quality and variety has been seriously reduced and no one seems to know why. 

Peeta called the distribution hub several times to complain, only to be told that they don’t even carry morels. Never have. He can’t think of why they would lie to him, but he’s been buying morels from them for the last two years. And now suddenly it never happened?

He tried other sources, but they either quote him ridiculously high prices, or say he should’ve put in an order months ago. He tried using other kinds of mushrooms, but somehow the pasties don’t have that special something. Perhaps he’s just crazy. It has been almost a year since he last tasted one. 

“Hey, want to be a taste tester?” he asks on impulse. The woman on the other side of the counter dimples a smile at him. Madge owns a local bed and breakfast and is very civically active. She’s been an excellent customer ever since he opened. She loves the mushroom pasties, so he feels relatively confident that she’ll know if these taste good by comparison. 

He hands over the pastry on a napkin and she eagerly takes a bite. She chews it slowly and he can see the eagerness fade. Peeta doesn’t even need to hear her overly polite comments to know he was right. They just aren’t the same without morels.

“Why would you change the recipe?” she asks carefully, and Peeta 

“You think I wanted to? I can’t buy morels anywhere.” And she laughs at him!

“Peeta, are you serious? Nobody buys morels, they go out and collect them. The thrill of the hunt is part of the fun.” 

That’s how he finds himself stumbling around the woods on Sunday afternoon cursing the odd hobbies people have around here. Crazy backwoods town.

He loves his new home. 

He had been making a road trip across the country and this was stop number… something. But it was the place he couldn’t forget. And it was the place he had returned to after he had graduated culinary school and his grandfather had offered to invest in his dream of opening his own bakery. 

Living in a small town was everything that Peeta had ever dreamed of when he was growing up in anonymous suburbia. His morning commute is approximately ten minutes, walking. People greet him in the street, and his business is doing great. The town has a steady trickle of tourism, not enough to overrun the locals, but enough to mean the town is thriving and kids leaving school have options besides the mines, unlike so many other small Appalachian towns.

If only the map Madge had drawn on the back of a napkin made more sense. 

And then he sees them. Morels. Growing in little clusters under the trees. He starts forward and joyfully begins picking the delicacies and dropping them into his bag.

“We usually shoot trespassers around here,” comes a voice from behind him. Peeta freezes. “Turn around slowly.”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting to see, but it isn’t her. She’s small, but that doesn’t make the arrow (!!!) she has pointed at him look any less intimidating. She looks calm and determined, he has no doubt she’ll shoot him if he doesn’t watch himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I didn’t know this was private land. I didn’t mean to trespass.” He holds out the half full bag and gives what he hopes is a conciliatory smile. She slowly lowers her bow and accepts the bag. “But I really do need morels, would you be willing to sell them to me? I can’t seem to buy them anywhere,” he continues in desperation.

She pauses in the act of poking inside the bag. “How much?” He’s not sure if she’s asking for price or quantity, so he tells her what he was paying before and how much he was getting. He may babble a little but that’s understandable, right? She did have a deadly weapon aimed at him a few seconds ago. 

“Okay. You want ‘em now?” He nods enthusiastically and she turns away and begins walking. After a few steps she turns and looks back at him. “You coming?” He gulps and follows her, hoping this isn’t some sort of trick to kill him somewhere more convenient.

She leads him to a utilitarian building, and when he steps inside, it’s produce heaven. Crates of fruits, vegetables, and stuff he’s never even seen before line the shelves, and there they are. Morels. He can’t help touching their perfect wrinkly tops, imagining all the happy customers he’s going to have tomorrow morning.

“You’re lucky I caught you,” the woman says from behind him, and he turns to see that she’s dumped the contents of his bag out onto a counter, and has sorted the morels into two piles. “If you’d eaten these,” she continues, pointing to one of the piles, “you’d be spending the night in the bathroom, or the hospital.” Peeta gasps.

“Are you saying they’re poisonous? They look the same!” And she just shakes her head and shows him the differences between the similar looking fungus. Peeta’s stomach churns at the thought of poisoning all his customers. 

“Perhaps I can just buy from you in the future?” She shrugs, but he can tell she’s pleased, so he adds, “and maybe you’d be interested in selling me some of your other produce too, because it looks so much better than the stuff I’ve been getting.” And then she finally smiles at him, and he’s stunned by how it transforms her face. How did he miss how young and beautiful she is? (Oh yeah. An arrow pointed at your face is distracting.)

“I sell at local farmer’s markets. I can give you a schedule,” she’s saying, because, he has forgotten to introduce himself. 

“Oh, no, I mean as a commercial buyer. I’m Peeta Mellark, I run the bakery in town? I’d need deliveries a few times a week, if that’s something you do.” And she stares at him in confusion. 

“The bakery? I’m ah, yeah sure. I’m mostly seasonal of course. I do cellar some things through the winter, but I can’t compete with those big companies that import.” She sounds uncertain, but Peeta is distracted by the giddy visions of locally sourced seasonal specials floating through his head. Why has nobody told him about this farm before? 

He chooses strawberries, tiny wild onions, a large crate of mixed greens and of course the morels. For starters. It’s going to take him a while to figure out how to integrate some of those other things into his menu, but these he can use tomorrow morning without a problem. 

After some embarrassment when he realizes that he doesn’t have a way to transport his newfound riches, or enough cash to pay for it, his new found best friend offers to drive him. She silently loads the flats into the back of a van with the words Dandelion Meadows surrounded by sunny yellow flowers emblazoned on the side. It seems out of character for this fierce woman to have chosen such a name, but now doesn’t seem like the time to ask. 

They are silent as they bump down the dirt road that leads away from the property. Peeta is lost in recipe dreamland, but he doesn’t feel bad. This woman doesn’t seem inclined to talk much. 

He’s directing her into the alley behind the bakery in less time than he imagined. His watch tells him the drive only took about fifteen minutes. Peeta spent over three hours wandering around in the woods to end up fifteen minutes outside of town. He’s going to have a serious talk with Madge about her map making skills. Or not. It did lead him to the best find ever.

The woman hands him her card after they’ve carried the crates into the kitchen. He never even asked her name. It says Katniss Everdeen. “So you’re Katniss?” he asks feeling foolish. She nods, and gives him a quick smile, seeming so much less intimidating in his kitchen. 

“It was good doing business with you, Peeta, I hope we can again soon,” she says softly, holding out her hand.

When he takes her hand he feels a flutter of excitement that has nothing to do with the morels sitting on the counter beside him. 

“Oh I’m sure we’re going to be working together a lot in the future.” 

\------------------------ 

The future comes the next morning, when she walks into the shop front and smiles shyly at him. 

“I’ve heard you do good things with morels?” 

It’s midmorning, the early rush is over and the lunch crowd hasn’t started so he lets Thom know that he’s taking a break and sits down with her at one of the small cafe tables on the sidewalk. 

He watches her closely as she bites into the pastie, and is gratified when her eyes widen and she licks her lips with pleasure. Watching people enjoy his food is one of the reasons he continues to be glad he chose baking over fine art. He loves to create beauty, loves to draw and paint, but there’s something about seeing people interact with his work so directly, and knowing he can do it again tomorrow, that makes him happy.

“I hope I can get morels from you for a bit longer, those pasties are very popular,” Peeta says, as she licks the last crumbs from her lips. 

“Yeah, I should be harvesting them into June.” 

“Good, good.” Peeta doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, he’s usually the king of small talk, and putting people at ease, but Katniss is clearly uncomfortable in his presence. He may as well get down to business then. “I loved the quality of the produce I got from you yesterday,” he says, “would I be able to come and tour your farm, get a sense of what will be available when, so I can build it into my seasonal menu?” And he’s rewarded with a real smile. 

“Yes! Of course. What time is good for you? I’m available today, after about 4.” 

\--------------------

“I don’t suppose you know of a good spot to watch the sunset around here?” Peeta asks, when it’s clear the tour is over. She gives him a blank look. He gestures toward his car. “I packed up some leftovers for dinner, It would be nice to watch the sunset as I eat.”

She’s been quiet as she shows him around, politely answering all his questions, but not making any small talk or asking any personal questions. Her farm is amazing, and the quiet confident way she answered all his questions have left him with no doubt that he wants to buy from her.

But there’s still that distance, perhaps that’s why he asks her to join him after she gives him directions to a small hill overlooking her orchard. He’s not used to people disliking him, and he needs to figure out why. He’s not sure why she accepts. 

She perches stiffly on the opposite corner of the blanket he lays out, but happily accepts all the food he offers. She’s here for the food he concludes.

After a few stilted attempts at conversation, Peeta gives up and pulls out his sketchbook, and starts drawing the curving lines of the willow, overhanging the stream in front of him. He adds in a woman, the rigid straight lines of her body contrasting with the more organic shape of the tree. 

“Is that supposed to be me?” her voice whispers over his shoulder. How she went from sitting in front of him to standing behind him without him noticing he doesn’t know. 

Peeta shrugs. “I’m not sure.” She doesn’t move away.

“I don’t look very happy.” Peeta shrugs again. He drew what he saw. And he’s not very comfortable with a near stranger looking at his rough sketch. He’s relieved when she sits back down. But this time she’s looking at him directly instead of avoiding his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop wondering,” she blurts out, “why are you here? Are you really going to want an ongoing account, or are you going to ditch me again?” 

Peeta gapes at her. “What are you talking about? When did I ever ditch you? I only met you yesterday!”

She scowls at him, her back even straighter and angier. “We may not have personally met, but you know very well you bought from me for over a year and a half only to go radio silent six months ago. And when I called to find out what was going on you told me in no uncertain terms that you ‘have a supplier you’re happy with.’ So don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I had never heard of you or your farm until yesterday.”

She flies off the blanket and marches back toward the farm buildings. Peeta stares after her in confusion. What on earth is going on? He hastily grabs his stuff and follows after her. He hopes she’s not going to get that bow and arrows, but who knows at this point? It’s probably a good idea to get out of here. He just hopes this doesn’t mean an end to the morels. 

He’s shoving his gear back into his car when she comes flying out of the house, waving papers at him. “Look,” she demands. “Purchase orders. From you.” 

Peeta takes them from her hand and looks at them sceptically. And then not so sceptically. Because that’s his handwriting. And that is certainly produce he would’ve been buying six months ago, but he knows he’s never placed an order with Katniss, how could he forget that? She is the least forgettable person he’s ever met.

And then he looks closer. 

“I do remember filling this out. But Rory always had me do it on two pages, one for seasonal, which would be this one, and one for everything else. And I swear, I wasn’t buying from you, it was Foodco, the big restaurant supply place in the city.” 

Katniss face goes from angry to stunned and then to annoyed again. Great. 

“Rory!” she yells at the sky, making Peeta almost jump out of his skin. She looks back at him. “Are you saying that Rory was making deliveries for Foodco?” she asks carefully. 

Peeta nods nervously. “Yeah, and I miss him. I don’t know what strings he was pulling for me, but the produce just hasn’t been the same quality since he went off to college. That’s why I was so happy to meet you.” Katniss rubs her hand over her eyes, and then turns and walks back into the house, moving more slowly. Peeta stands and watches her go, uncertain about what he’s supposed to do. She pauses at the door and looks back at him. 

“You want a beer? Because I sure could use a drink.”

It ends up being several beers, and quite a few angry text messages between Katniss and the absent Rory before Peeta understands exactly what happened. 

It seems that Rory had been working for both Katniss and Foodco, delivering supplies to restaurants around town. Most of the customers had known Rory and Katniss their entire lives, so were happy to keep his moonlighting on the down low. But when Katniss had asked him to stop in at the new bakery that was opening, he’d been worried about getting in trouble, and had kind of given the impression that it was all coming from the same place. 

This arrangement had continued happily for the next year and a half. Until he’d saved up enough and left for college last September, and too embarrassed to explain the situation to either of them, he had left both Katniss and Peeta in the lurch. 

A few beers in, Peeta is finding the entire situation hilarious. Sure, he wasn’t laughing a few weeks ago when he had no morels, but now, watching Katniss glare at her phone as if she can burn Rory with her eyes from two hundred miles away it’s seeming quite humorous.

His body, used to baker’s hours, decides it’s time to sleep, which is a problem. He’s not drunk by any stretch of the imagination, but he doesn’t feel comfortable driving. He’ll be fine in an hour or so, but he’s fairly sure he’s going to be asleep by then. 

Katniss stops glaring at her Rory proxy for long enough to catch him yawning widely.

“I’m sorry about this whole mess. You’re tired. Go home and we can talk tomorrow.” Peeta wordlessly points to the beer bottles lined up on the table. She sighs, and gets up gesturing for him to follow. 

“You can sleep in here,” she says, stopping in the doorway of a room that looks like a pink frilled nightmare. “My sister’s room, just let yourself out in the morning.” She hesitates, for a moment then adds, “you seem okay, Madge likes you and all, but just know that I have knife and I know how to use it.” And on that frightening pronouncement she turns into the next room. 

Spending the night in a room that Barbie would probably find too girly was not what Peeta expected to be doing this evening, but if she’s comfortable with it (as long as she has a knife keeping her company apparently) he’s not turning her down. If he has to force himself to stay awake much longer he’s going to be miserable at work tomorrow. He uses the bathroom one last time, drinks several glasses of water and settles down to sleep. 

His body clock wakes him right on time, and he tiptoes out, only stopping to leave a ‘thank you’ on the magnetic shopping list hanging on the refrigerator door. 

Peeta half expects her to disappear, as if the whole experience is some sort of Appalachian brush with fairy land, and she is the fey being he gets to glimpse only once. But she’s at his at his back door with the order he’d placed, as promised. She’s back to being quiet and all business, and so he follows her out after all the crates are brought in. 

“Thank you for letting me stay last night,” he says, and she doesn’t look at him, just climbs into the drivers’ seat. 

“I couldn’t have you crashing and dying, just when you started buying from me again,” is all she replies before driving away, but he’s starting to get a feel for her, and he’s certain she was smiling.


	2. Blackberries in Summer

Katniss doesn’t think about where she’s driving through the torrential downpour until she’s parked in the alley behind the bakery. Why did she come here? She must have a reason. She can’t remember it now. She was so preoccupied with her seething frustration she simply retraced the route she’d taken only a few hours before. She should just leave. But the rain is getting to the point that it’s unsafe to drive, and the lightning is getting closer. Sighing with annoyance, she goes around to the back of the van, making no attempt to hurry. She’s already drenched.

She grabs up a few flats of blackberries, hoping they will make showing up unannounced a bit more acceptable, and bangs on the back door of the bakery.

“What are you doing out in that? What happened?” Peeta demands as he gestures her inside. She puts the blackberries on the counter and slumps onto a stool, feeling foolish.

“Effie Trinket is a passive aggressive control freak,” she mutters. “100% chance of thunderstorms, heavy rain, and high winds, but no, she can’t cancel. Instead she insists we have to show up ready to go or we lose our slots. She’s like a farmers market dictator or something.” Peeta snickers.

“And yet she speaks very highly of you.” Katniss gives him a look of disbelief.

“Through clenched teeth maybe.”

Peeta eyes the puddle forming under her seat, “well, it looks like she got you good. You’re wet through.” Katniss looks down and sees she’s got a pool of water going on the counter top too. She’s making a mess of his tidy kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to drive home through that. Is it okay if I wait it out here?” Peeta gives her one of those sweet smiles that makes heat creep up her neck.

“Of course. It’s not like I have any customers, I even sent Thom home early because there’s no point baking for nobody.” He glances over at the blackberries. “You’re especially welcome if you bring gifts. You wouldn’t happen to have more of those in the van would you?”

Fifteen minutes later Katniss has fetched in all the berries (against Peeta’s protests, but she was the one that was already wet, right?), dressed in a set of Peeta’s far too large clothes that he had in the back, and is attempting to towel some of the water out of her hair with a couple of linen dish towels.

The air is humid and warm, and with the rain pouring down outside it feels like they are the only people on earth. Katniss doesn’t know why she feels so relaxed. She should still be angry about Effie’s manipulations, but somehow now that she’s here with Peeta it doesn’t matter anymore. He looks up and smiles at her and she feels that shivery tingle ripple across her skin again. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Are you ready to bake with me?” he asks, and she shrugs helplessly.

“I don’t know how to bake. I know how to stew and roast meat, do simple things with vegetables, and I can fry eggs. That’s it.” He nudges her with his shoulder and then begins scooping flour onto a scale.

“Well watch and learn.” He adds a few things, dumps it onto a machine and clicks it on for a few moments and then takes out some eggs and breaks them into another bowl, quickly whisking them before combining them with the other ingredients. Within a few moments, a ball of dough forms and he stops the machine and takes it out, efficiently wrapping it in plastic before putting it in the refrigerator. The entire process has taken less than two minutes.

“How do you do that so fast? And how do you remember all of the measurements?” Katniss asks.

Peeta gives her a serious look. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Ah, sure?”

“First you must swear, on your honor, to never to impart this important trade secret to any unworthy oversharers,” he says dramatically.

Katniss giggles. She’s not sure how he manages to bring it out of her, most people don’t think she even knows how to smile, but with Peeta she can feel playful, giggly even. “I solemnly swear to keep your baker's secret from the unworthy,” she says. And then he leans in close to her, so close she can feel him exhale against her ear.

“There are only four recipes,” he whispers, and she’s so distracted by the sensation of his warm breath whispering across her skin that it takes a minute for what he says to sink in.

“Wait, what? You make hundreds of different things.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Bread, pastry, cake and cookies. Of course there’s variations, but everything is based on those four recipes.” She shakes her head. There’s no way it can be that simple, that all the deliciousness that comes out of this kitchen can be distilled down to four recipes.

“Bread,” he continues, as if expecting her disbelief, “flour, water, salt, and yeast. Sure I use sour culture, add ins, or enrich it with fats, but it’s still that same basic recipe fancied up.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Katniss says doubtfully. He leans toward her again and her skin tightens with anticipation.

“Trust me, I know. I’m a baker.” This time, his lips actually brush against the shell of her ear and she can’t control the goose bumps that ripple across her body. She takes a couple of big steps back and crosses her arms.

“So, what are we baking anyway?” she asks, avoiding his eyes. He stares at her for a moment and sighs, turning toward the counter where the flats of blackberries are stacked.

“I’m thinking we make galettes with the blackberries, and the rest of the berries need to be processed and canned.” Katniss has no idea what a galette is. It sounds difficult. But she knows how to process fruit, so she volunteers to do that. She keeps her income up over the winter by selling the jams and preserves she makes during the summer, although Peeta seems to be more creative than her basic jams ever get. He hovers over the pots, adding spices and herbs, and Katniss tries to pay attention. The combination of blackberries and orange peel smells intoxicating, and who would’ve thought you could add rosemary?

She doesn’t mean to stare when Peeta takes the ball of pastry out of the fridge and begins to roll out small circles of dough. His movements are smooth and skillful and she’s having trouble looking away.

When she first found him stealing her morels she hadn’t thought about him as a man. He was just this sweaty flustered person trespassing on her property. But sometime over the last few months, as he’s joked with her over deliveries, and invited her into his kitchen for ‘taste testing,’ she’s begun to notice how attractive he is. She’s ignored it, because she doesn’t have many friends, and in her experience romantic stuff is the best way to ruin a friendship. Look what happened with Gale. He was her best friend before he tried to take it to a romantic level, now he barely speaks to her. She doesn’t want that to happen with Peeta.

But today, something about watching him at work, in his sultry warm kitchen, with the wind lashing rain against the windows, makes her feel like they are the only people in the world. This is his element and he is entrancing her. It’s making it easy to forget why it would be a bad idea.

“Are the berries ready?” he asks and she quickly turns back to the pots, hoping he didn’t catch her watching the muscles of his back as they rippled under his fitted t shirt.

“Ah, yeah. They’ve thickened up.”

He shows her how to place a spoonful of filling in the middle of each dough circle and then continues to roll out more, all the way down the long counter. Then he comes along behind her, rapidly folding in the edges and transferring the odd little pastries to a baking tray.  
“So that’s a galette?” Katniss asks, because everytime he passes behind her he touches her, small momentary brushes on her back or shoulder, and if she doesn’t distract herself she’s going to do something spectacularly stupid like grab him and kiss him.

“Expecting something fancier were you? You can blame the french for giving such an impressive label to the most ordinary of pastries. It’s basically a fruit tart without a pan.”

Outside, the rain sounds like it’s easing, but they are still completely alone in the bakery, except for the smell of blackberries and vanilla hanging in the air.

“Wait, why are we making these if you have no customers?” Peeta gives her a smug look.

“Oh but we will, in, hmm,” he looks out the window at the dark clouds that are rolling off to the west, “five minutes or so. All those hikers and campers that raced into town last night are currently trapped inside, taking advantage of complimentary breakfast buffets. Even the B&B’s that do their own baking will probably be coming by to restock.”

As if on cue the bell on the front door rings, and Peeta smirks. Katniss can’t help but laugh at him, he is so foolishly pleased with himself.

“Katniss?” says a familiar voice, sounding shocked. Katniss turns to see Madge standing in the doorway to the shop front. Katniss is instantly conscious of how this must look, her, making herself at home in Peeta’s kitchen, and oh no! Wearing his clothes, covered in floury handprints! Her embarrassment twists into something else when Peeta goes over to Madge and puts his arm around her, kissing her cheek. Because for a moment there she’d thought he was flirting with her. But no, he’s simply affectionate. It’s clear now, and she is thankful she resisted kissing him, because she doesn’t know how she would’ve handled the inevitable rejection.

Madge raises her eyebrows at Katniss, but thankfully doesn’t comment on the cosy looking situation. “Don’t forget book club Sunday night,” is all she says as she whisks out the door with a couple of boxes of the still warm galettes.

“You’re in a book club?” Peeta asks, sounding incredulous.

“What, is there something wrong with reading a book and discussing it with your friends?” she demands, instantly feeling defensive. It stings a little, because she can see what he’s thinking. Book clubs are for intelligent, educated, feminine women. Not for girls who barely graduated high school and spend their life digging in the dirt.

“No, no! Of course not. It’s just… a little difficult to picture.” She decides not to tell him how some of the women in the group drive her crazy, and how she in turn annoys them no end.

She goes into the small bathroom and gathers up her wet clothes. It’s time for her to go home. What felt special when it was just the two of them now feels odd and uncomfortable.

Peeta is busy dealing with his sudden influx of customers so she slips out the back door without interrupting him. He catches her eye though and gives her a pleading look. She’s not mad at him, but she’s spent too much time in close proximity to him today and it’s beginning to feel stifling.

Her driveway is muddy and slick and she knows that working outside today would be a wasted effort, so she takes the remaining stock from the van into her kitchen. She’s grateful that Peeta was happy to take all the berries off her hands, and some of the vegetables can be returned to the cool room for tomorrow, but the ripe heirloom tomatoes are too fragile for her to feel happy about selling them tomorrow after bouncing around in the van and sitting in the heat today. Which means she gets to keep on canning.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she ignores it. It goes off again a minute later. And then again.

 

_Peeta: I’m sorry, I was a jerk. It’s just that a book club seems so girly._

_Peeta: Ignore that. I’m making it worse, aren’t I?_

_Peeta: You are very feminine. But I don’t imagine you having the same taste in books as a girly girl like Delly Cartwright?_

_Peeta: Please reply, you’re killing me._

 

Katniss smiles at the last one. She’s more embarrassed than anything. So she doesn’t know why he’s so concerned. But it’s nice that he cares.

Peeta may be the first person who has ever called her feminine. She knows he’s only saying it because he’s attached to her produce, but it feels good to have someone say that being feminine doesn’t immediately imply the frills and ruffles that is Delly. Not that Delly isn’t nice. She may be the nicest person on the planet. But she is intensely girly, in a way that always makes Katniss feel insufficiently female.

 

_Katniss: you’re only forgiven if you supply me with a plate of snacks for the book club meeting._

_Peeta: toast rounds with blackberry preserves and brie?_

_Katniss: Mmmm_

_Peeta: you can’t say stuff like that when I’m at work._

 

And there it is. He sounds like he’s flirting again. He’s been saying stuff like that a lot lately, and she’s never sure how to respond. Because as far as she knows, no one has ever flirted with her before. She’s only had one boyfriend. And he asked her out in high school by shooting her with a rubber chicken that had ‘come to prom with me’ scrawled on the side in red marker. She sees Darius around town sometimes, he’s a sheriff’s deputy now, and she’s still fond of him. Their relationship lasted a couple of years, and it didn’t end with drama, more lack of interest. She was putting in a lot of hours to get her farm established, he was working all the worst shifts as a rookie deputy. And a day came when Katniss realised she hadn’t seen him for a month, and she didn’t particularly miss him.

The disaster with Gale had only made her more leary. She had been surprised when he came home from his last tour of duty and told her they were meant to be together. Uh… Gale who had been like a brother for most of her life? The idea seemed slightly creepy but she felt honor bound to a least go out with him a few times. Lesson learned. Never go on a guilt date again.

Neither of them, or any of the other guys that Madge occasionally set her up with had ever made her shiver all over by simply whispering in her ear. And no one has ever said the sort of flirty things Peeta says.

For all she knows, he flirts like that with everyone. He’d hugged Madge when she came in. He’s never hugged Katniss.

 

_Katniss: Don’t be stupid._

 

She looks out at the rows of dripping blackberry trellis’ and has a great idea.

 

_Katniss: hey, do you need more berries for the winter?_

_Peeta: always, I can never get enough._

_Katniss: you can come out here on Sunday and pick as much as you want. I’m not going to be able to get it all in._

_Peeta: YES YES YES!_

_Katniss: okay, show up whenever. I’m up early._

_Peeta: not as early as I’m up._

_Peeta: I’m a baker._

_Katniss: anytime after 5am then._

_Peeta: Berry bushes at 5. I’ll be there._

 

\-------------------------

 

Peeta shows up with plastic shopping bags and Katniss snatches them away from him.

“Are you kidding? You’ll crush the berries with their own weight!” She’s still shaking her head at his ignorance as she offers him her own buckets and trays and sends him off into the rows.

He works steadily all day, only coming back to store the berries he’s picked in the cool room and refill his water bottle. Katniss is impressed with how much he’s sticking with it, and how much he’s managed to harvest. He’d insisted on paying, and she’d ended up charging him the same nominal fee she uses for all the ‘self pickers’. Katniss is hates for the excess fruit to go to waste, so she is happy that Peeta can make use of it.

It’s late afternoon when she goes to check on him and finds him snacking on the berries. When she slips up behind him, he startles and looks guilty, trying to wipe the berry juice from his chin. The look on his face makes her laugh.

“Peeta,” she says, “you’re allowed to eat the berries as you pick them.” He relaxes and turns back to his buckets.

“Well I think I’m about done here, I want to get all this processed tonight, and it’s going to take a while with this haul.” He looks up at her with a smile, and she sees that there is still a dribble of purple juice at the corner of his mouth. “Have I thanked you enough for letting me do this?” he asks, sliding his arm around her and pulling her into a half hug. His body is hot and sweaty from the day in the field, but being pressed against him feels wonderful. Katniss leans into him, and he makes no move to let her go.

He’s not a tall man, only a couple of inches taller than her own slight stature, so when she lifts her head from his shoulder she is immediately aware of the proximity of his mouth, with that tantalizing drip of juice, and before she can even think she’s leaning in and licking it up. She can taste the the salt on his skin, combined with the syrupy sweetness of sun-warmed blackberries and for a moment that’s all she can think of, how delicious he tastes. How good it feels to stand here in the sun with this man’s arms around her and his taste on her tongue.

His whole body goes rigid and she is abruptly aware of how stupid she is. She leaps away from him before he can push her off.

“I just came to tell you I’m going to be leaving soon, for Madge’s, but you can stay as long as you want. So, bye,” and she turns and stumbles back toward the house. She can hear him calling after her, but he’s burdened with all the tools and containers, and she so doesn’t want to talk about this, to see the pity in his eyes as he tells her that he cares for her, as a friend.

By the time she makes it into her kitchen she’s choking back tears. Did he have to reject her so strongly? And why does she care so much anyway? She’s only known him a few months, it’s not like he’s her best friend or anything.

She sees the bag of toast rounds he left on the counter, with it’s little post-it reminding her the cheese and preserves are in the fridge, so sweet and thoughtful. How can she stand to lose him over this?

“Katniss,” he pants as he thunders into the kitchen, and she turns her back on him, pretending to be busy getting out a plate and arranging the food on it.

“It was a stupid impulse Peeta. Don’t make this into a big deal,” she mutters, “it didn’t mean anything.” Why isn’t he understanding that she doesn’t want to talk about it? His hands come on to her shoulders and she shouldn’t be feeling anything from that, but her traitorous heart starts to pound anyway.

“I hope so bad that you’re lying,” his voice is rough and pleading, “because I know I didn’t respond right, but I am desperate to kiss you. In fact I should just say right now that you can kiss me anytime you want.” She’s focusing so hard on not crying, and not leaning back against him as her body is begging her to do that it takes a moment for her to work out what he’s saying.

He wants to kiss her.

Why is she still standing here staring at a pot of jam?

Peeta freezes again when she throws her arms around his neck and slams her mouth against his, and for a split second she thinks she understood him wrong but then he’s pushing her back against the counter and his mouth is chasing hers eagerly.

She’s never kissed someone so close to her own height, (Darius used to give her a crick in the neck, the gangly giant) so she’s not sure if she would fit together so perfectly with any guy his height, or if it’s just Peeta. It feels like his body is made for hers.

“This is so much better than what I’ve imagined,” Peeta whispers against her lips.

Katniss pulls back and looks at him curiously. “You’ve been imagining us like this? Since when?” The idea makes her already overstimulated body go hot all over. His eyes dart around, not meeting hers.

“Um, basically the first day I met you?” And he steps back, leaving her feeling bereft. “And on that embarrassing admission I should leave you alone. I’m getting you all dirty and sweaty and you’re going out. Sorry. I, ah, I should let you go.” The last thing Katniss wants is for him to let her go, but a glance at the clock tells her they were kissing for far longer than she imagined. If she doesn’t leave now, she’ll be late.

“Okay, yeah, I have the thing. I have to go to it, it’s now, and I should go,” she rambles intelligently, and he brushes his fingers down the side of her face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” And her eyelids drift down at the sensation.

“My favourite stop on the delivery route,” Katniss says, and he laughs.

“Okay then, I’m gonna go get all the stuff I dropped,” he says as he backs out the door, like he can’t take his eyes off her.

Katniss can’t keep the grin off her face as she drives into town. Did that just happen? Did that incredible guy kiss her and tell her he’s wanted to for months? Men don’t act like that over Katniss Everdeen, but one just did. And not just any man. The most enticing man she’s ever met.

 

\--------------

 

The group is small that night, several people are on vacation, but they do have a B&B guest of Madge’s sitting in so the conversation is still quite lively. Delly keeps cutting her little looks, apparently waiting for Katniss’ usual scathing commentary on world building, which, in this book is particularly bad. They are scientifically advanced and have genetically modified all their food, but still, half the people on the spaceship are farmers? Are they modifying the plants to produce less? Using food to fuel the engines? Did the writer do any research on modern agricultural practices?

But she can’t seem to work up the righteous indignation. She’s too happy.

Until the bubbly guest (is it Amelia,? Ophelia?) who is sitting in leans forward and asks, “So what’s the story on that delicious looking baker? I didn’t see a wedding ring. Is he single?” Katniss feels a sick lurch in her stomach. She regrets combining wine and dairy. She can just feel it curdling.

“Oh,  _so_ single,” Delly replies. “He’s been in the cross hairs of half the women in town, but no one can tie him down.” And then she gives her cheshire cat grin. “but I can tell you that he’s an excellent kisser,” and she raises her eyebrows at Madge, “as can quite a few other ladies.”

Katniss is about to interject and tell that woman that he’s taken and hands off, but is he? Or is she now just another one of those women who can attest to his skills as a kisser? How many are there? Is he working his way through the town, and she was just a bit more difficult to bring around?

She lurches to her feet and rushes through the french doors onto the back patio, panting in the humid summer air.

“Don’t let Delly bother you,” Madge says softly, following her down the steps to the grass.

“Oh nothing’s bothering me, I just felt queasy and wanted to get some fresh air,” Katniss says, feeling defensive.

Madge comes to stand beside her. “Katniss, I’ve known you since we were five. I know that queasy stomach is a direct result of how they were talking about Peeta.” Katniss rubs her eyes. Was it that obvious? “Don’t worry, I only guessed because the other day it was pretty clear that something was going on with you two.”

“Is it though? Perhaps I’m assuming too much.”

Madge shakes her head emphatically. “I doubt it. Like I said, don’t let Delly get to you. I know for a fact that she went on one date with him, one! And that was before he even met you.”

“Well that’s one more than me.” She feels so jumbled up, and every instinct is telling her to back away from him, she’s not the kind of person who competes over a guy.

“Katniss, don’t do this,” Madge breaks into her thoughts, “don’t take the easy way and quit before you even begin. He means something to you. Don’t you owe it to yourself to find out if he feels the same way?”

Katniss takes a few deep breaths. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go talk to him. Tell everyone I felt sick and had to go, okay?” Madge raises her eyebrows at the rush, but she knows her best friend well enough to know that if Katniss doesn’t do this immediately she’ll talk herself out of it.

Instead of walking back past everyone in the parlor, she circles the building and pops through the front door to grab her bag from the coat closet, before dashing out. Her autopilot takes her straight to the bakery, and why would he be there at this time of night?

But the lights are on, and she remembers him saying he wanted to process the berries tonight. Perhaps she should leave him to it, not interrupt. He’s got to be tired and wanting to just get it done. There’s no rush. The only thing that propels her out of the van and in the back door is the certain knowledge that Madge will be calling or texting first thing tomorrow, and she’d better have an answer for her.

Peeta looks like he hasn’t stopped, or changed, just came straight here, and got to work. She wonders if he’s eaten.

“Hey,” she says softly, and he spins around. He looks exhausted, but when he sees her he gives her the hugest smile. He’s stirring a giant pot and he hesitates toward her, as if he’s not quite sure how to greet her. Katniss makes the decision for him by stepping to the other side of the large island and perching on a stool. He frowns, and turns back to the stove.

“Hey back. I didn’t expect to see you here. Book club end early?”

Katniss shrugs. “I just didn’t have the stomach for the gossip portion of the evening.” Particularly when the subject was you, she adds silently.

Something in her voice must clue him in, because he turns off the burner and leans on the counter directly opposite her. “Are you okay?”

Katniss stares at her hands, unable to meet his concerned eyes. “What is this?” she asks, as the silence begins to lengthen uncomfortably. She risks a glance up and his nose is wrinkled in confusion. “Between you and me, I mean?” she clarifies.

“What do you want it to be?”

Katniss clenches her jaw in annoyance. “Don’t answer a question with a question,” she snaps, and Peeta throws up his hands defensively.

“I’m not. It’s whatever you want it to be. Tell me what you want and that’s what we’ll be.” Now he’s just making her angry.

“Fine. I don’t want you kissing anyone but me!” As soon as the words leave her mouth she cowers in embarrassment. How old is she? Twelve? She puts her head on the table, feeling like a fool.

“Katniss Everdeen, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” He doesn’t sound annoyed. She chances a look. He’s right in front of her now, and he’s grinning from ear to ear. And then he’s putting his hands on her face and kissing her like she’s the most wonderful, special thing he’s ever touched.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his mouth hot against her ear.

“Yes,” is all she can manage, her voice breathy and uneven, and she doesn’t even care, because he’s kissing her again, laying points of moist warmth across her face back to her mouth, he tastes like orange and cinnamon and blackberries.

After a few minutes, he pulls back. “The blackberries,” he groans as he starts to move away.

She pulls him back, hugging him tightly against her, (Mine. All mine. Never to be shared.)  
and then reluctantly releases him. She looks around the kitchen and sees all the fruit still waiting in baskets, the pots on the stove, recently sterilised jars in the half open dishwasher.

“Peeta, what on earth are you doing?” This chaos is so unlike the usual order that he may as well be delusional.

He sways a little and gives her a glazed happy look. “Canning, with my girlfriend.”

“When was the last time you ate?” she demands.

“I’ve been sampling everything I make.”

“Anything besides blackberries,” she clarifies. He shrugs carelessly. Frowning she pushes him down onto the stool and grabs a loaf of bread.

“What are you doing? I can’t stop, I’ve got to finish this while the fruit is still fresh. Do you know how delicate blackberries are?” She excuses that stupid comment as his exhaustion talking.

“I’m making you a sandwich and then I’ll help you get this done. And hopefully we’ll both be able to catch a few hours sleep tonight.”

He grins at her cheekily. “Who knew you could be so domestic? I think I’m going to like this girlfriend thing.” When she growls at him, he grins even more.

She throws ham, cheese and pickles on the bread with some random condiments, and slaps it down in front of him. She’s very well aware that it’s nothing compared to the fancy sandwiches he sells, but if he wanted that he could’ve done it himself.

He bites into it and groans. “Thank you. I didn’t realise how hungry I was. This tastes so good.” Not sure how to take that (Surely the only reason why it’s even edible is his fancy mustard and wonderful bread?), she simply nods and pours him a glass of the unsweetened iced tea he prefers.

She turns away and checks on the pot he had on the stove when she arrived. It looks like the jam has jelled, so she carefully spoons it into the jars from the dishwasher, and puts on the water bath to heat.

She washes out the jam pot and turns back to Peeta to ask what he wants to do next, only to find him asleep with his head on the counter. She nudges him, but he only mutters something and buries his face in his arms.

Great. Katniss looks at all the fruit still waiting and makes an executive decision. There’s no way she can turn all of this into jam and pie filling by herself, even if she knew his recipes. Peeta may be annoyed with her tomorrow, but tonight he’s asleep on the counter, so he’s getting frozen.

It’s not nearly as complicated as she imagined, once she manages to fit the cookie tray racks in the freezer. She layers all the berries onto the trays and by the time she’s done the last of the jam has finished processing and she does a quick clean up.

Peeta sleeps on.  
She considers just locking up and leaving him there. But his back and neck will make him suffer tomorrow. So she shakes him roughly until he finally wakes, and pulling him to his feet she forces him into a stagger and into her van. He can get his car tomorrow.

By the time they get to the small duplex he rents, he’s somewhat awake. Katniss still walks him to his door.

“What about the berries?” he asks still looking glazed.

“It’s okay. I took care of it,” she reassures him, and he wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her neck. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you. I love you so much.” And then he smiles sleepily at her and goes inside, leaving her standing there stunned.

Her phone chimes, and Katniss knows without looking that it’s Madge wanting to know what happened. The problem is that she has no idea. He said he wanted to be her boyfriend. He kissed her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He said he loved her. But he was so exhausted that five minutes later he fell asleep with his head on the table.

Katniss decides to hold off on talking about this until she knows if Peeta remembers anything he said.

 

\------------------

 

When she delivers Peeta’s order the next morning he looks haggard, but he smiles at her and thanks her, just like always. In fact, everything about the entire interaction is just like always. He can’t possibly have forgotten everything that happened yesterday, can he? Of all the things she was dreading happening, him acting like nothing had changed hadn’t been one of them, but now it seems like the most terrible thing of all.

She mopes through the rest of her route, glad that it’s one of Madge’s employees accepting the delivery at the B&B. She can’t face her right now. When her phone buzzes she pulls it out reluctantly, expecting it to be her friend demanding updates.

 

_Peeta: Could you meet me back here?_

 

She stares at it. She often drops back to see him at the end of her route. The rush is usually over and she sits in the kitchen for fifteen minutes or so and and chats with him and eats a pastry before heading home to get to work. Katniss had been looking forward to doing that with her boyfriend today. Had been. Surely he doesn’t expect her to want to see more of him after the way he acted?

And yet she finds herself turning into the alley behind the bakery instead of driving straight home.

He’s waiting for her, standing with his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t suppose I could get a kiss?” he asks, the corner of his mouth tilting up adorably. Katniss crosses her arms and keeps her distance. “Okay. I deserve that. I’m sorry about this morning, I didn’t know how to act. I wanted to grab you as soon as I saw you, but I didn’t want to cross a line, or be unprofessional, and Thom was right there, and I didn’t know what to do, and we haven’t exactly talked about this properly.” Katniss thought they had talked plenty. What else was there to decide? “You acted like it was fine, but then you gave me that look as you were leaving, like you were hurt and I wanted to explain, but it’s taken me hours to get out from under the rush. I’m sorry!”

Katniss doesn’t know what to say. He’s put her through so many emotional extremes in the last 24 hours she can’t think clearly anymore.

“Peeta, I’m so tired. And I have so much to do, I’m just going to head back to work. I’ll - I’ll talk to you about this later, okay?” She hates the look that crosses his face, but her brain feels like warm taffy and she can barely form a sentence.

“Do you still want to be with me?” he calls after her as she walks away. “I mean, I didn’t just imagine everything yesterday, did I? It really happened?” He sounds so uncertain, and she doesn’t really think, just turns back and wraps her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck.

“Yeah, it’s real,” she breathes against his skin, and feels the way he exhales and leans into her. They stand like that for far too long, considering they both have work they should be doing. But Katniss doesn’t want to be the first to let go.

When she finally gets into her van to leave, she sees her phone has a new text.

 

_Madge: ???_

_Katniss: I guess I have a boyfriend._

_Madge: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm staying on schedule, yay for writing in advance! 
> 
> Some serious Everlark moments here, and some serious baking moments too, I hope you enjoy both, and of course let me know what you liked and what you think!


	3. Apples in Autumn

Peeta misses Katniss. He hasn’t seen her in days. She’s finally managed to find a replacement for Rory, a quiet young woman named Rue who is now doing the deliveries each morning. Peeta understands. Katniss has a business to run. She needs to spend her time on the most skilled tasks, the same way he has Thom shaping baguettes so he can decorate wedding cakes. 

But he’d hoped that taking on a full time employee would mean that she’d have a bit more time for her boyfriend. She’s promised that it’s just for a few months. That Autumn is the busiest time of year for her, and that he’ll be tired of her hanging around by the time spring comes (won’t happen), but still he misses her. And watching Thom flirt with Rue isn’t helping.

So when Rue rushes through the delivery on Wednesday morning instead of responding to Thom’s overtures (and wow he’s so tired of them, when will they just go out?) he’s curious. 

“Oh Katniss needs the van back, she’s got the downtown market this afternoon, and Effie keeps a tight schedule. A few minutes late and you’re blocked out.” 

Peeta had forgotten about that. Katniss has been sending Rue to work some of the markets, but she likes to do the one here in town herself. Even with her self described ‘winning personality’ (although she won Peeta with it, so he has no complaints) locals want to see her and talk to her about her produce, they don’t like seeing anyone but Katniss manning the stall.

His eyes fall on the box of apples that Rue carried in. She gave him one to taste last week when the first ones began to ripen, and it was like a mouthful of sunshine. He’s never had anything like it. Katniss had been extremely pleased with his reaction. Her great grandfather had planted that apple orchard, and some of the varieties were so rare that the Appalachian Seed Conservancy had sent samples onto some important apple breeding program in New York State. 

He knows a delicate touch is required to avoid drowning out the unique flavors but he’s going to try a few things with them today. Perhaps he’ll surprise Katniss with the results. 

She doesn’t even jump when he slips up behind her and kisses the side of her neck. 

“Heard you coming a mile away,” she says as she briefly leans into him before pushing him away, “and even if I didn’t, the delicious smell was a dead give away.” She takes the box from Peeta’s hands. “Have you been playing with my apples?” He laughs. She’s usually so serious, that the slightest sign of playful flirtiness delights him.

“Oh you know, I feel like your apples deserve special treatment. If you’re not interested, I see Delly shopping over there, I bet she’d be happy to sample my work.” Katniss snatches the box out of his hands possessively. 

“Mine,” she growls as she opens it. He doesn’t need to see what’s inside, he filled it after all, instead he watches her face, enjoying the small smile that flits over her mouth as she lifts out a square of apple spice cake. She smells it, her eyes closing in pleasure. “Cinnamon,” she says reverently, and then takes a bite, and he’s not sure if he’s ever seen anything sexier than Katniss Everdeen enjoying his baking. 

And she knows exactly what she’s doing. She cracks her eyes open and looks at him and he hopes his sudden flush can be attributed to the harvest weather they’re enjoying. “Ah, yeah, it’s cinnamon and some other spices. Do you like it?” 

She unexpectedly leans over and kisses him. Her mouth tastes, not surprisingly, of apples and spices, and he feels so very lucky to have this beautiful, special woman willing to kiss him in a public place and let the world know they’re together. 

They’ve certainly had some growing pains in their relationship. Figuring out their boundaries and how to maneuver having both a personal and business relationship was tricky at first. Even a month ago Katniss would’ve been too self conscious to kiss him at her stall like this. But maybe, maybe she’s been missing him too. 

“I miss you,” she breathes across his lips as she pulls away, and she probably has no idea how relieved he is to hear that. He knows she cares, she is willing to claim him as her boyfriend, and gets jealous when the likes of Delly Cartwright are around (and he went on one date with the woman, over a year ago!) but his old insecurities never entirely go away. Whispering that a woman like Katniss could do so much better. 

It doesn’t help that he’s the only one who’s ever said ‘I love you.’ And that she’s pretended it didn’t happen for two months now. Sure, it was way premature, they’d been officially together for about two hours at the time. And he never would’ve said it if he hadn’t been half asleep and high on the idea that she actually liked him. But he’d meant it. He still does. She is the one. He knows it’s fast. But in his experience most of dating is waiting for the other person to stop pretending to be what they think you want and finally be themselves. Katniss has never been anyone but herself, so it’s abbreviated the dating arc significantly. 

From that first night when they drank homebrewed beer and he slept in her sister’s pink bedroom he’s been falling, and when she finally kissed him in the blackberry trellis’ was about the time he face planted straight into love. 

And she’s steadfastly pretending it never happened. 

Can he be blamed for some insecurity about their relationship? But she said she misses him. 

“So, if I show up on Thursday with a picnic, would it be possible to tear you away from harvest duties for a few hours and watch the sunset from the overlook?” he asks, and she leans her head against his shoulder. 

“I should absolutely say no. But yes.” and he should be feeling guilty about pulling her away from her work, but all he feels is special. Because she sincerely misses him. Her (they’ve definitely put a label on it!) boyfriend. 

“Oh you two are so sweet,” a voice says, and Katniss instantly jerks away from him. He looks over to see Effie Trinket’s glowing face on the other side of the counter. Katniss gives him a poisonous glare that he knows is not intended for him before composing her face into a neutral mask and turning to greet her customer. 

“Effie, how are you,” she asks with the absolute minimum of sincerity. 

Effie flutters her hands and takes one of the sample apple slices from the display. “Oh, you know, keeping busy as always.” She bites into the apple and Peeta is amused to see the look of bliss that crosses her usually impassive face (wrinkles my dear boy!)

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he can’t help asking. “Katniss has several extraordinarily rare varieties in her orchard. The seed conservancy sent someone to take samples.” This time the poisonous look is meant for him, but how can she be mad about him talking her up? 

“Oh, my dear,” Effie gasps. “HOW did I not know this. You simply MUST participate in The Apple Festival, I know you haven’t signed up yet, but with a practically designer apple variety you need to do it!” 

Ah. The Apple Festival. The annual street fair slash tourist trap that is the town’s big claim to fame. So far Peeta hasn’t attended. He’s simply gotten to bed early so he can open up in time to catch the people staggering home from the festivities, eager to buy buttery egg croissants for breakfast. 

Katniss gives him a look and picks up the bakery box. “Well I think you should try some of these then, Peeta’s been experimenting with my apples.” Effie selects an apple turnover, and after one bite her eyes dance between the two of them. 

“Children,” she trills (really? Peeta knows he has a baby face, but he’s twenty five!), “I’ve had the most wonderful idea. What if Katniss has a display of apples and you, Peeta, give demonstrations on how to prepare them? It would be marvelous!” 

Peeta glances uncertainly at Katniss who looks remarkably blank. “Ah, sure? I mean, I can’t commit until we figure out some details, but I guess we could look into it?” 

“Why did you say that,” Katniss hisses after Effie has moved on, “There’s no way I’m working that stupid festival. She’s just trying to get us to pay to entertain tourists, with no real profit in it for us.” 

“You gave her the pastry! I thought you were trying to sell something, or make a point, or I don’t know. I just don’t see you giving up an apple turnover without a reason.” 

“I was trying to distract her!” 

He gives her a hurt look. “With me? Thanks a lot.” 

He feels her hand on his back. “I’m sorry, I kinda panicked, and I thought you’d just be able to handle her, and,” she rubs her hand over her face. “Forgive me?” 

Peeta shakes his head. “I feel like I should at least think about it. I’m not going to make you do anything, but the idea of doing demonstrations has merit. I’m just not sure what it would be actually selling.” 

Katniss tilts her chin up and kisses him firmly. “I got you into this, if you do the festival I’ll be there too.” 

Peeta loves it when she’s stern and determined. 

Who is he kidding? He loves it when she’s Katniss. All the days, all the time. And he can’t wait for Thursday.

\---------------------

Peeta packs carefully for their date. He loves feeding her, and so he spends a few hours making carnitas, so he can build pork tortas with spicy apple salsa, and of course some apple turnovers for dessert, since she’d given her first one away to Effie. 

He’s been thinking about doing the demos Effie talked about, and he might have an idea, but that’s not for tonight. They had established some time ago that business was not a conversation topic appropriate for dates. Dates were for spending time with each other, not for planning out sales incentives.

His heart plummets when he drives up and after knocking on the door (no response) spots her down in the orchard, still picking apples. 

She forgot. They haven’t had any time together in almost a week and she forgot. 

He honks his car horn and she looks over at him and freezes for a moment. Then she is rushing down the tree and quickly removing her picking harness before quickly coming toward him.

“I’m so sorry, I lost track of time! Give me fifteen minutes.” She dashes into the house without a backward glance. 

“Don’t look so sad. You’re all I’ve heard about all day.” Peeta turns to see Rue making her way toward him at a more leisurely pace. 

“Yeah, nothing like a girl spending fifteen minutes racing through the shower for a date to make a guy feel special.” 

Rue scowls at him. “If you want someone who won’t let you see her without hours of primping break up now, she deserves better.” Peeta feels suitably chastised. And it’s not even that he expects Katniss to spend hours grooming herself before seeing him. He knows that’s not something she enjoys doing, and he loves her as she is, it’s just that it would be nice if she didn’t forget about him completely. 

He sighs and gets the basket and blanket out of the back seat of his car. He knows Katniss has been working hard, and he’s not going to start this evening off on a bad note. She’s not canceling, she’s just running a bit late. It’s fine. 

When Katniss comes back out rapidly braiding her very wet hair he is ready with a smile and he sees Rue give him a nod of approval as they head down the path to one of Peeta’s favourite spots on the property. 

Katniss is suitably impressed by the tortas, and eats voraciously. “I worked through lunch to get everything done,” she tells him looking slightly embarrassed at the sheer quantity of food she’s consumed. And the last little bit of annoyance Peeta was holding on to melts away. She worked through lunch so she could spend more time with him. He has no grounds to be miffed that she lost track of time.

After the food is gone Katniss takes her favoured sunset watching position, sitting between Peeta’s legs and leaning against his chest. He grabs the second blanket and wraps it around them both, and rests his back against a tree. They watch the sun slowly slip behind the mountains in a comfortable silence.

Katniss turns her head and kisses the side of his jaw. “Thank you for doing this for me, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he says and she snuggles closer. “I love you,” he whispers into her hair, and she responds by making a contented humming noise. Should he have said that? She doesn’t seem to mind, and he’s been choking the words back for a long time. 

“Katniss,” he finally says, and she doesn’t respond. Wonderful. He’s getting silence again. “Katniss,” he says a bit more insistently, and she jolts away from him, rubbing her eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry, I guess I nodded off.” He looks at her tired face in the deepening twilight, and begins packing up the containers. “No, we don’t have to leave, I’ll stay awake, I promise!” she protests, and Peeta shakes his head.

“You’re exhausted, and we both have to get up very early tomorrow. Come on.” She sighs and begins folding up the blankets. 

“I just miss you so much, I wanted to spend a bit more time with you,” she says.

“You have no idea how nice that is to hear. But I’d feel bad keeping you up when you’re this tired.” He gives a small smile. “Besides, harvest time will be over soon, and you’ll be free to spend all your time pestering me about working too much.” 

As they follow the path back toward her house she keeps glancing over her shoulder at him, and he wonders if she’s thinking about what he said. Or did she even hear him? Perhaps she was already asleep. 

When he kisses her goodnight at her door he hesitates, unsure of how to bring it up. She avoids his eyes as she steps back. “So I guess I need to tell you something,” she says, focusing on his shirt. 

“Ah, okay?” his stomach clenches anxiously. 

“These last few weeks, I haven’t seen much of you, and it made me realise something. I guess - I mean I know - that… I love you.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks stupidly, but she’s not even looking at him. Is she just saying it because he did? 

Her eyes pop up to meet his. “Do you mean, am I going to take it back like you did?” He gapes at the unfairness of that statement. He didn’t take it back! “Sorry, sorry, it’s just, you said it, and then didn’t mention it again, and I thought…”

He wants to kick himself for letting his insecurities rule them both. “No, I’m sorry, I got scared. I thought you’d think I was moving too fast or something, so when you didn’t say anything I didn’t either.” 

She leans into him and he can feel her laughing. “We’re idiots.” 

“So okay,” he says, “I love you too, although I think you already know that, and you can expect to hear it a lot from now on.” She smiles and tilts her head up to kiss him. 

“Okay. Goodnight, I’ll call or text tomorrow, okay?” He nods once again, and steps back to watch her go into her house. He hates leaving her. He wishes he never had to. He wishes that he lived here too in this impractical old farmhouse, that he fell asleep next to her every night, and woke up next to her every morning. 

It’s too soon, it’s always too soon, but he can’t help thinking about it as he drives home. His place is a forgettable 1980’s duplex, furnished from Ikea. The most personal touches are the paintings he’s got propped around (no picture hanging allowed by the landlord). He could leave this place behind in a heart beat. He would love to move into a hundred and fifty year old house with leaky windows and no air conditioning, and most likely dodgy wiring and plumbing, if it meant he was with Katniss. 

He gets ahead of himself. It’s a fault he’s well aware of. He can’t be thinking these things, Katniss couldn’t possibly want to hear them from him. Not at this point of their relationship. Not when she only told him she loved him for the very first time less than an hour ago. 

And yet when he walks home from work the next day, his eyes stray to the display of rings in the jewelry store window. He forces himself to keep walking. He’ll make her feel pressured. He should just enjoy the point their relationship is at now, instead of always racing ahead. But he can’t help thinking about the texts he had waiting for him when he woke up. 

 

Katniss: don’t be afraid to tell me what you think

Katniss: I’m bad at talking about my feelings, but I want to hear yours

Katniss: I’m not gonna reject you for it.

 

Does that mean she is okay with him getting ahead of her? Would it be pressuring her to tell her what he’s feeling right now? Is it crazy to think about marriage at this point? Is he even ready for what he’s thinking right now?

Peeta pushes the thoughts out of his head and applies his mind to the problem of the Apple Festival. 

He’s thinking apple fritters. 

Because he can demonstrate twenty different apple-themed baked goods, but they need ovens and time to prepare, whereas fritters just need a pot of oil and a couple of minutes to cook. Perfect festival food. And Katniss won’t have to do assume any of the responsibility. 

He runs the idea past Thom and is pleasantly surprised when he has some good ideas, like offering different kinds of sugar sprinkles as a way of creating different flavours without having to have lots of different batters. 

Katniss strolls in on a Saturday afternoon to find them both hunched over a pot of frying oil sampling fritters with different flavoured sugars. 

She pops one in her mouth and smiles. Peeta mentally votes yes for lemon cardamom. 

“So you’re actually going to do it, hey?” Peeta shrugs, feeling self conscious for no good reason. He can have a booth at a food festival, can’t he? “Have you ever done anything like this before, do you have any of the equipment you need?” he shakes his head knowing now why he should feel foolish. He and Thom have been so preoccupied with getting the recipe just right that he’s forgotten about all the practical logistics of actually setting up a booth. Effie had been happy to squeeze him in, but the festival is only a few weeks away and he has no idea how to get all the gear he’ll need. 

Seeing the first flickerings of panic cross his face Katniss puts her hand on the back of his neck and pulls him in for a light kiss. “You are so lucky you have me. Let me make a call.” She turns away and pulls out her phone. 

“Finn, hey, yeah, doing great, I know, I know, but harvest time, you know how it is, but well catch up this winter for sure. So, huge favour to ask. You still got at that stuff from the fish fry thing you used to do?” Peeta looks at Thom in bemusement. Does she actually know someone who has all the equipment they need, could it possibly be that simple?

“Dude, do not let that woman get away,” Thom murmurs and Peeta has to agree. Not that he’s too concerned. She said she loves him after all. 

Katniss laughs loudly, drawing his attention. “I know, I’m pretty amazed myself. Okay, I’ll have him call, bye.” She walks back to them, a big smile on her face. “So, good, news, that was a friend of mine, he has a restaurant in the city, but before that he was working the festival circuit, and he’s got all the gear just sitting in storage. He wants to get rid of it, so if you’re interested...?” 

“Of course! How much do you think he wants?” Katniss waves her hand disinterestedly. “I sent you his info, you can sort it out between you.”

Peeta takes out his phone and looks at the contact page she sent. “Finnick Odair! You know Finnick Odair?” he gasps. 

“Yes, so?”

“Who is Finnick Odair?” Thom asks, 

“Only the hottest thing in the city. He was voted Best New Chef in Food and Wine last year. You need to pay attention to the industry more. He’s the chef/owner of Trident!, surely you’ve heard of that.”

“Oh wow. Of course. The best fish house in the city. Do you think we’ll get to meet him? Maybe he needs bread for his restaurant?” Peeta rolls his eyes. He doesn’t know what could possibly make Thom think that their tiny provincial bakery would have anything to offer a famous restaurant like Trident!

Katniss laughs. “I don’t know if he wants to meet you Thom, but he sure is anxious to meet Peeta. Says he’s got to get a look at the man that would take me on.” 

“I don’t know what that means. You’re the best catch in town. But of course I want to met him.”  
Peeta’s finger hovers over the call button, suddenly nervous. “Did he tell you when a good time to call is?” 

“Yeah, he said he’s at home for the next few hours, so anytime now.” Well dang. Peeta was hoping he’d have some time to assemble his thoughts so he didn’t fanboy all over the man. He takes a few deep breaths, he’s going to be cool, Finnick is Katniss’ friend, she doesn’t tolerate egos, so he’s going to be cool. 

“Hi, um, Katniss called a few minutes ago, about the gear for a festival booth?”

“Well hi. The famous boyfriend. I cannot wait to meet you.”

“Yeah, Katniss said that. I’m not that exciting, so, don’t expect much.” Oh man he feels like a fool, but how could he be of interest to Finnick? The guy is less than a decade older than himself, but he’s achieved so much. Peeta is certain that there will never be a write up about him in a culinary magazine, let alone all the other accolades.

He hears a rich chuckle on the other end of the line. “Katniss must see something in you. But how about…” Crash. “Lochlan!” he hears Finnick yell. 

“Are you okay, did something happen?” 

“Hey, I’ve gotta go, my son just pulled a vase over, and I’ve got a huge mess here. Can you meet me tomorrow to look at the stuff? I’ll text you the deets.” 

“Okay,” Peeta starts.

“Great, bye!” Peeta stares at the phone feeling bemused. That did not go the way he expected. And Finnick had sounded completely normal, not famous at all. And he’s going to be meeting him tomorrow!

Half an hour later he gets the text with an address and time. 

A second text pops up a few minutes later. 

Finnick: Katniss says you seduced her with your baking. Care to share, one foodie to another?

Oh God. Finnick Odair wants to sample his baking. He feels a bit dizzy. Luckily the ping of another text distracts him.

Finnick: Make sure you bring a vehicle with a tow hitch.

“Why would I need a tow hitch to meet Finnick Odair?” he wonders aloud. Thom glances up from where he’s fiddling with the proportions of the tweak on cinnamon sugar. (they’re including nutmeg and cloves) 

“I guess for a trailer? To bring it all home?” Oh. Peeta’s small car doesn’t have a hitch. He doubts it would have the horsepower to put a trailer either. “You know I have a hitch on my truck right?” Thom adds, looking hopeful. Peeta grins at him. 

“I guess you’re going to get to meet the man too. If you’re free tomorrow afternoon.”

\---------------------------

Peeta had somehow thought that the dazzling good looks and charming smile was a product of excellent photography, but in real life he is more everything. And yet so down-to-earth normal that Peeta can’t quite equate the movie star looks and sexiness of Finnick Odair with a man that pulls up in a minivan and immediately gets a pack and play out and changes the repulsive smelling diaper of a baby that then stands in the pen and yells incomprehensible babble as his father unlocks the rollup door of a storage locker. 

“Sorry I’m late. Lochlan gave us a fun morning, so I wanted to let my wife have a nap, and then of course he decided to fill his pants on the way here, disgusting piglet, aren’t you?” The baby giggles and waves his hands, apparently unconcerned about being a piglet. Finnick glances at Peeta and Thom. “I not being very professional I know, but I hope you don’t mind him. He can stay in the pen.”

Thom shuffles back looking leery, but Peeta runs his hand over the baby’s copper colored hair. He likes kids, he has a nephew and a niece that he rarely gets to see, but he does know from experience that the horrendous smell from a few minutes ago means it’s actually the safest time to hold him. “Can I pick him up?” he asks and Finnick waves casually. He takes that as a yes, and scoops up the child, who snuggles against him trustingly. 

The coppery colored hair is a match for his father’s, and Peeta can’t help but think about what a child of his would get from him. Perhaps his eye color? Or curly hair? Somehow he’s imagining dark hair, like Katniss’. 

“You wanna check this stuff out or moon over my kid all day?” Peeta meets Finnick’s amused look. Was he just fantasizing about his and Katniss’ future children? Stop getting ahead of yourself, he tells himself sternly, and deposits the baby back into the playpen so he can look over the equipment. 

It’s all obviously seen a lot of use, but appears to be well-maintained. Finnick quizzes them on exactly it is they’ll be doing, and offers so many helpful suggestions that Peeta takes out a notebook and starts jotting things down. 

He particularly has good ideas about demonstrations. He suggests coming up with a few things that are simple to make and can be whipped out without too much thought, and demonstrate a different dish each day of the festival. He heartily approves of the fritters with flavoured sugars, and then he asks about the contents of the white boxes sitting on the front seat of the truck. 

Peeta brings them out reluctantly, if anything he’s feeling even more star-struck, the deluge of information has only impressed upon him how much experience this man has, and how far out of his depth he is. 

He wasn’t sure what to bring, so he put together things he knows Katniss likes, apple spice cake, blackberry galette, and a few different kinds of bread rolls. 

Finnick happily breaks a small piece off each of the pastries and nods approvingly over them. But it’s when he tastes the bread that his eyes widen and he takes a second bite. 

“Is this authentic slow-rise sourdough?” he demands. Peeta nods, feeling a bit confused. 

“Yeah, we’re kind of old school. All the sourdough rises overnight.” 

Finnick closes his eyes in apparent bliss, “This is a unique culture too, not the standard San Francisco taste. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for something like this? Something that can do my chowder justice? Even the places that claim to be artisanal do quick rises on the sourdough, and add vinegar or yeast. This is so good!” He tears a small piece off and offers it to his son. “When can you start supplying me?” 

Peeta knows his mouth drops open cartoonishly, but he can’t help it. Finnick Odair wants to serve his bread in Trident! And Peeta has no idea how it could work. He and Thom are hard pressed to bake enough to fill demand as it is. There’s not enough time to do it all. And how would he get it up to the city each day? 

Finnick slaps him on the shoulder, “you don’t have to answer now, but think about it, and talk to me, I’ll help you sort out any logistics. I really want that bread.” 

Thom babbles gleefully about how right he was all the way home. All Peeta does is stress.

\----------------

It’s exhausting getting everything set up for the festival, but surprisingly Katniss lends a hand quite often. Not without muttering under her breath about how stupid the whole thing is, but Peeta’s used to that. 

The real hitch comes when, late in the afternoon, the night before the festival opens, Effie bursts into the bakery. 

“The pies, the pies” she calls out, and catching sight of Peeta she rushes forward, grabbing his apron straps. “Please, you’re my only hope, the festival will be ruined!” Peeta is used to drama from her, but this is over the top, even for Effie Trinket.

It turns out that the truck full of pies for the apple pie eating contest has overturned, and the pies are all spoiled. (the driver is fine) But without those pies the contest won’t happen, and the big opening day of the festival won’t have it’s big opening. Unless someone can come up with 300 apple pies in the next few hours. 

Peeta is flummoxed. Yes, he’s just gotten his monthly shipment in, so he has enough dry ingredients on hand to theoretically make 300 pies, but where would he get the apples? And how could he accomplish it in such a short period of time? but once he says that he can do it, Effie brushes aside the other issues, telling him she will handle it. 

Within thirty minutes, crates of apples are being hauled through the back door of the bakery. A truck carrying butter arrives a few minutes later and by that time, Katniss and Rue have rushed in (Effie had thoughtlessly told Katniss that there was an emergency at the bakery). 

Peeta cheerfully puts them to work peeling and coring two thousand apples. 

Thom shows up with his cousin Leevy not long after. Peeta assigns them to pastry and they are in the apple pie business. It’s lucky that he had decided to close down the bakery today, they are able to dedicate all the ovens to the pies. 

Katniss has been grumbling nonstop about what a pointless waste it all is, so when he hears giggles coming from the corner where she and Rue are set up with his mechanical apple peeler he feels suspicious. 

“What are you two up to?” he calls out, and they respond with silence. Well, silence and a strange whirring noise. That’s not good. 

He walks over to them, and Katniss shields the device with her body. “Before you say anything, look at how many apples we’ve gotten done in the last ten minutes.” She waves her hand at the truly impressive pile of prepped apples in the tub. 

Peeta rubs his face. “Okay, yeah, but are you violating health and safety codes?” She smirks and steps aside, and before he can comment, puts an apple onto the prongs and triggers the battery drill that she’s attached in place of the crank. When the apple is done Rue snatches it away, pulls off the core and tosses the sliced apple into the tub beside them. It’s taken them less than ten seconds to complete an apple. 

Peeta has peeled thousands, maybe millions of apples in his life and it’s never occurred to him to try anything like that. Is it weird to think your girlfriend is hotter when she’s doing creative things with power tools? 

“How did you guys even come up with that?” he asks, and Rue laughs, her black curls bouncing. (He needs to give them hair nets, that is a violation) 

“We googled. Everyone’s doing it on youtube.”

“Ah, good job then. If you guys can get all the apples peeled, the rest of us can handle everything else. I appreciate the help, but I know you have things you need to be doing on the farm.” Katniss gives him an amused look. She leans over and kisses him, only touching him at the mouth, her hands covered with apple juice.

“I did leave things in chaos out there. Remind me to punish Effie for scaring me like that.” Peeta shakes his head. 

“I happen to like her, so no way am I helping escalate this feud you have going on.”  
The pies are completed in plenty of time, and on top of paying him for the food, Effie refunds Peeta’s entire booth fee. It’s turning out to be a rather low cost endeavor, what with using Finnick’s gear and now the free space. 

Katniss stands next to Peeta in the crowd, as, later that evening they watch the pie eating contest. She seethes with irritation as one after another the pies are torn apart by the eager competitors. 

“Doesn’t it bother you, seeing something that took you so much effort to make being just consumed without any respect or appreciation?” she finally asks. Peeta considers it. He knows she has particular issues with wasting food, having gone hungry as a child, and now being so intimately involved with food production herself. She donates excess produce to food pantries and homeless shelters, and it’s known around town that for a nominal fee anyone is welcome to come and gather whatever’s left at the end of the season. Peeta knows that quite a few of the poorer families in the area eat much healthier as a result of Katniss’ gleaning policy. 

“Not really. I don’t see it as much different to making cupcakes for a children’s party, when I know that half of them will just eat the frosting and throw away the cake. I had to get over that kind of stuff a long time ago. Food I spend time on gets wasted, you can’t have an artist’s ego when you bake for a living.” Katniss tilts her head to the side thoughtfully. 

“Hmm,” is all she says, but he knows she’ll think about it and bring it up at some random future moment. It gives him a warm feeling in his chest to be able to predict her actions like that. He loves this woman so much.

The winning eater manages to down a truly disgusting amount of pie, and stands to accept the applause, covered in apples and pastry. 

Katniss shakes her head as they make their way back to Peeta’s booth. He sighs as he focuses on the amount of work he has ahead of him over the next four days. He’s already exhausted from the frenetic baking session this earlier, and he still has six hours of booth manning ahead of him.

“I’m going to head home, get some rest, but I’m still going to be here to help you in the morning, okay?” Peeta nods, appreciating her willingness to participate in distasteful chaos because she wants to support him. It’s how he imagines marriage should work. 

Leevy is still hanging around, and Peeta smiles at her. “You want to work a few shifts this weekend?” he asks spontaneously, and her face lights up. He knows she’s been at loose ends since graduating high school, picking up shifts as a checker at the supermarket, and filling in for Peeta at the front counter when his regular employee is sick or on vacation. She impressed him this morning with her enthusiasm, which didn’t flag even after hours of repetitive work. She’s a good worker and he wishes he could offer more. But he simply can’t afford more than two employees. 

But since Effie refunded his booth fee he’s got a bit more cash to play with this weekend, it’s sounding totally worth it to have her close with Thom so Peeta can get a decent amount of sleep before he gets up early tomorrow to do the baking before he comes here to open the booth at noon. 

Having Leevy taking shifts, as well as Katniss helping during the slower parts of the day means that both Peeta and Thom manage to get decent amounts of sleep. And so, on the final day of the festival, when Peeta is completing a demonstration on pie making (the extra eating contest pies had been sold off for charity, so when people found out they were from Mellarks he’d gotten some requests) and spots Finnick Odair grinning at him from the back of the crowd he only freezes momentarily. He shouldn’t be surprised to see him. He probably wants to make sure Peeta hasn’t destroyed his gear.

“Do you know what this fair needs?” he remarks, instead of saying hello, “it needs a fish sandwich booth.” 

The woman with him rolls her eyes. “You think everything is better with fish.” 

“You love it,” Finnick replies, and then leaning down to talk directly to her pregnant stomach adds, “the tadpole loves it too, don’t you small fry?” The woman shakes her head, and holds her hand out to Peeta. 

“Hi, I’m Annie, the long suffering incubator for this frog’s offspring.” 

Finnick gasps in mock horror. “I’ll have you know I turned into a prince the first time you kissed me.” 

“Then why do I have your tadpole swimming around in my stomach?” she retorts and Peeta laughs. 

“Finnick!” Katniss exclaims rushing up to hug him and then Annie. “I was hoping you guys would make it in time for the demo. It was good, right?” 

Finnick shakes Peeta’s hand enthusiastically. “Yes, it was great. You’re a natural in front of a crowd. I want some of that pie now.” 

Peeta chuckles, feeling acutely uncomfortable. “Ah, I don’t have any of them left. You want some apple spice cake, or fritters instead?” They belly up to the counter and Finnick lifts his son out of the stroller to perch between his arms and coat himself with cinnamon sugar. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any of that amazing sourdough back there, would you?” Finnick calls out. Peeta doesn’t. He doesn’t bake on Sundays. He gives Katniss a sidelong look. He knows that the last of yesterday's loaves disappeared into her backpack this morning. She sighs and pulls out a slightly stale loaf, reluctantly handing it off to her friend. 

“You better make this worth it tomorrow.” Finnick laughs, enthusiastically sawing into the loaf with the bread knife Peeta offered. He offers the first slice to his wife, and the second to his son. Peeta can’t help contrasting the scene with the last magazine spread he saw on the man. He’d been clad in a bright yellow fisherman’s pants, a salmon thrown over his shoulder, his bare chest impressively on display. He’d looked like a stripper. It’s still hard to reconcile the image with the devoted family man he sees before him.

Finnick and Annie exchange glances and Peeta gets even more nervous. “That bread is a day old, so don’t judge too harshly okay?” Annie give him a serene smile. 

“Well you better bring a fresh loaf over tomorrow then.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Finnick and Annie are staying with me tonight,” Katniss cuts in, “and they’re paying me back by making brunch tomorrow before they head back to the city. Can you come? Bring Thom and Leevy too, they deserve a treat after they’ve worked so hard this weekend. You can tell Thom that Rue will be there.” 

Peeta knows his crew is exhausted after the hectic weekend. He guesses people will understand if he does a limited baking tomorrow and leaves his counter clerk in charge while he and Thom take the rest of the day off. He doesn’t expect the townspeople, tired out from partying all weekend, to be buying a lot of bread anyway. 

“How could I pass up a meal cooked by the Odairs? I’m sure the others will be happy to come too.” 

\------------- 

“So, when am I going to be able to start serving your bread?” Finnick asks as they all lounge around the table the next afternoon, stuffed from the spread Finnick and  
Annie had prepared. They had shamelessly stolen Peeta’s apple salsa recipe, and served it with eggs, bacon, fish prepared four different ways, bread, Peeta’s special cinnamon rolls, baked apples stuffed with sugar and spices, and assorted vegetable dishes. Peeta may never eat again.

Peeta shakes his head. “Never. I can’t do it. It’s impossible. Sorry.” 

Annie leans forward. “Why? Maybe we can figure it out, we’re good at problem solving.” 

“So many reasons. For starters, Thom and I simply can’t bake much more than we do, and even if be both had four arms or something there still wouldn’t be enough oven space, and then even if the bread was to somehow be magically produced, there’s still the issue of getting it from here to there. I just can’t see how it could be done.” 

Peeta leans back in his seat as the table gets loud, everyone having an opinion on how this can be accomplished. 

Katniss gives him an impish look from across the table. “Aren’t you worried about all of them planning the expansion of your business without you?” 

“I can’t keep up. What’s the plan so far?”

She tilts her head, listening to the excited voices, “You’re going to apprentice Leevy -she’s thrilled by the way- and do a second round of baking to be ready to go by 10am. Oh and you and I are apparently going halves in buying a delivery van, which Thom will drive up to the city each day.” 

“Oh? Sounds like a plan.” 

Katniss laughs. 

It’s crazy and unbelievable, but within half an hour the brunch brain trust has come up with solutions to all of his concerns, and when Peeta tells them he can’t afford to hire on another person and buy a delivery van Finnick hands him a slip of paper with a number on it. A large number. 

Peeta has to take some time to think about it of course, but by the time the Odair family leaves it is starting to look like Mellark’s Bakery is going to be the proud holder of an exclusive contract to supply Trident! with bread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter the Odairs, owners of Trident!  
> This chapter got awfully long, but hopefully in a good way rather than an 'oh that rambled a lot' kind of way.  
> Let me know what you think of minvan driving Finnick, the progression of the romance between P&K and of course, the apples  
> And do look up the apple peeling thing on youtube. I spend an enjoyable few hours watching apples lose their skins.
> 
> Of course super thanks to mrsbonniemellark and papofglencoe for all the help on this fic!


	4. Venison in Winter

The first hard frost always comes as something of a relief to Katniss. She never really stops in the autumn harvest season, and the crazy rush to get the crops in, to store or sell all the fruit, and every last vegetable is relentless. But when cold weather properly starts she can breathe again. Stop racing and look over her accomplishments.

When she used her inheritance to buy out her sister six years ago she knew people in town had snickered behind their hands. The Old Everdeen Place, as it had been known back then, hadn’t been a working farm in over half a century, and an eighteen-year-old thought she could make it happen?

But Katniss had known things they didn’t know.

She’d been planning it for years after all. Ever since she was sixteen, and Haymitch Abernathy had won the years long court battle with the mining company, whose negligence had caused the death of her father, and seven other men. The amount of money that had come to her had been mind boggling, and at first Katniss had been repulsed by the idea of profiting financially from her father’s death, and she wanted to refuse it, give it all to a charity or something.

Haymitch had taken her aside and asked her to think about what her father would’ve wanted. Katniss had remembered how he used to sit on the back porch with his wife and daughters in the long summer evenings, and tell them about how the property used to be. How in his grandfather’s day the land had been farmed and there had been twelve different types of green beans, and more apples than anyone could eat, and the blackberries were canned and eaten all winter long.

She and her father had maintained a small vegetable garden and even as a child Katniss had found it amazing that she could plant seeds and with a little care and time produce real food. It was almost magic.

And Katniss had known exactly what she wanted to do. In the years since her goal hasn’t wavered, she loves her farm and loves having work that lets her be outside, in the sun and rain everyday, using her body until it’s tired and sore, producing something tangible and useful.

Haymitch had helped her with the legal requirements, championed her desire to start her own business, and his faith had given her impetus. Her mother and sister have always supported her dream, and oddly enough so has Effie Trinket.

Katniss remembers that night, five years ago when as a stammering nervous teenager, she’d stood up in the town meeting and raised the subject of the market day. At the time it was an embarrassment. Just a few booths selling low price imported knick-knacks, and a hot dog stand. Katniss had requested that they limit sellers to only local farmers and handcrafters. Her presentation had been less than impressive. She’d marshalled a few other producers to stand up and speak as well, but the smelly old goat farmer (turned out he was producing high quality angora yarn, but no one understood that at the time) and the taciturn beekeeper hadn’t made much more of an impact on the town council. Katniss’ heart had sunk.

But then Effie Trinket had stood up and spoken. She’d been a recent import, hired by the town as a one woman Tourism Department. She had thought it would be an excellent tourist draw, and said this was exactly the kind of idea that she had been wanting to throw her energy behind, and she would handle everything.

Sure, her obsession with rules and her manic cheeriness drive Katniss crazy, but she has made things happen and the town, in fact the entire district, as one by one neighbouring towns have copied their market, is certainly more prosperous as a result of her work. And Katniss knows she owes a certain amount of her success to the woman.

Which is why, every year around this time, on the day the market closes down for the winter, Katniss puts together a basket from all the regular stall holders. She puts in some preserves, the goat man offers up yarn that Sae knits into a scarf or gloves or something, everyone adds an item or two like that.

And every year when they give it to Effie she gasps in apparent amazement and then cries and gushes. Katniss endures the sloppy hugs and waits desperately for it to all end. It’s one of those little things that mark the end of the season.

This year Peeta insists on adding baked goods to the gifts.

“She helped me a lot with the apple festival,” he says as he stuffs a package into the corner of the basket.

Katniss rolls her eyes. “Yeah, so awesome of her to bully you into taking a booth.”

“Which she gave me for free.”

“Which you earned by saving her ass and cranking out hundreds of pies. I don’t think it was nearly enough payment considering.”

“Just take the biscotti and stop complaining.”

Katniss is in too good a mood to give him trouble over it, and he knows it. It’s strange. They’ve been together for such a short time, but it already feels like he’s always been a part of her.

Since the first frost she’s been seeing a lot of him, spending most afternoons together after he finishes his bakery shift. She was a bit concerned about overloading on him, getting tired of seeing him all the time, but it doesn’t seem to be happening. If anything all the togetherness just makes her miss him more when they’re apart.

Of course she still enjoys her solitary tramps through the woods, her quiet alone time. But knowing he’s there for her when she gets back makes her smile randomly at trees and bushes.

She knows she’s a pathetic love sick puppy, and while she isn’t getting tired of Peeta she is getting tired of people telling her how ‘cute’ they are. Katnisss isn’t cute. She’s tough, responsible, independent. She worries sometimes about how soft he’s making her.

\--------------

After they all gather around and present Effie with the basket, the market opens for its last day of the year. Peeta, who insisted on being present, follows her back to the booth.

“So what are you going to do with yourself? No crops to harvest, no markets to work. You’ll be bored in ten minutes.”

“Haha. You have no idea how many repairs I need to make on my house, all the accounting I’ve neglected over the last few months, and all the green house work I need to do. Of course if I get bored I can always come and pester you.”

He puts his arm around her and leans his head against hers. “Please do, I love it when you pester me.”

“Hey Katniss,” a voice calls from the other side of the table, and she is annoyed by the interruption, until she sees who it is.

“Darius!” she exclaims, coming around the table to hug him. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you?”

“Great! Things are good at work, and I’m on the day shift now, so you’ll be seeing me around a bit more I guess.” He turns and offers his hand to Peeta. “Hey, I’ve eaten your baking, but I’ve never actually met you. I’m Darius Mede, old friend of Katniss’.”

Peeta takes his hand and shakes it, smiling cheerfully. “I’m Peeta, and I’ve heard of you.”

Darius rolls his eyes. “Not too many embarrassing stories I hope.”

“Well, let’s just say I’m not planning on a rubber chicken being involved when I propose to Katniss.” Darius guffaws loudly. His endless good humor was one of the things that drew her to him back in high school. Of course now she has Peeta she can see what she felt for him was more like warm friendship than romantic love, but she still enjoys hearing him laugh.

Wait. Did Peeta say *propose*?! He’s not even looking at her, too busy joking with her ex to even look at the woman he just dropped a bomb on.

Once Darius leaves Peeta looks at her curiously. She sees no sign of concern in his face, he doesn’t even know what he just said. She could simply pretend that she never even heard him say that loaded word. But if he said it that means he’s thinking it.

What does that mean,” she whispers. More customers are strolling up and down the booths and this is a conversation she doesn’t want overheard.

“What does what mean?” he whispers back still looking confused.

“When I propose to Katniss?”

He goes pale, and she feels queasy. He’s definitely been thinking about it.

“It’s not like I have it all planned out,” (so he clearly has it all planned out) “but I’ve thought about it. I love you. I don’t think it’s crazy to think about marrying you one day.”

Katniss can feel the beginnings of panic start to roll over her. Peeta is giving her his wide-eyed pleading look, begging her to understand that it’s perfectly normal to be planning to propose to someone you’ve been dating for less than six months.

She’s saved from causing what would probably be an embarrassing public scene by Rue arriving to help with the stall. Katniss mutters something about remembering a thing she has to do and makes her escape.

Madge is frowning over paperwork when Katniss walks into her office.

“Can you believe it?” she asks without even looking up. “The wedding I had booked for January just canceled. It’s less than a month away and the groom decides he ‘can’t go through with it,’ or some stupid excuse. They are not getting their deposit back, that’s for sure. I’ve already ordered…” she breaks off as she glances up at Katniss face. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Katniss drops down in the other chair. “Peeta’s planning on proposing.” she says.

Madge raises her eyebrows. “How did you find this out? Not that I’m surprised by the way.”

“He just mentioned it casually, like it was completely normal. And why aren’t you surprised? We’ve been dating for five months. Five months! Who is thinking about marriage at that point!”

Madge grins. “Peeta Mellark, obviously. And I’m not surprised because he’s a marrying kind of guy. Would you rather he be thinking about moving on?”

Katniss slouches down in her seat resentfully. “No. But you don’t seem properly concerned here. You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Madge comes around her desk and gives her a hug. “I’m on your side, of course I am. I just don’t quite understand why you’re upset. Don’t you see yourself having a future with him? You said he’s planning on proposing, so he hasn’t even done it yet. I’m sure he’s happy to wait until you feel ready.”

Katniss forces herself to take some deep breaths. Why does this have her in such a panic? She loves Peeta, is the idea of marrying him so terrible?

“I guess I’ve never really thought about getting married. I didn’t expect to ever be in this situation.”

“Really? You never thought you’d meet someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?” Katniss nods, not wanting to say that she never expected anyone would want that with her prickly, unpleasant self. Madge studies her. “That’s not really the reason, is it?”

Sometimes Katniss hates having a best friend who’s known her since she was five-years-old. Irrational panic is skittering through her, and she feels a pain forcing its way out of her chest. Madge hugs her and she can’t hold it in any longer, sobbing on her shoulder.

It passes quickly as it came, leaving Katniss feeling foolish. What kind of person behaves like this? Most women are happy when their boyfriend hints about the prospect of marriage. She runs off and cries her eyes out. He’s probably going to change his mind now.

“Is this - is this about your dad?” Madge asks hesitantly. Even the person who did her twelve-year-old best to help her through that rough time is careful when she brings it up.

“Maybe? I guess so. I just get so scared.”

“Have you talked to Peeta about it?” Of course she has. Sort of. Well, she’s given him the basic information. No need to go into the sob story that was her childhood too much.

But that was when he was a friend. And then a new boyfriend. But now, when he wants to marry her? Perhaps it’s time to tell him everything.

\----------------------

Katniss stops at the bakery on her way back to the market. Peeta looks nervous when she comes in the back door, even more so when she asks him if she can see him when he’s done with work.

She kisses him. “It’s okay. I promise. I just have some things I want to tell you.” He relaxes a bit, but she can still see the anxiety flickering in his eyes. She knows he’ll worry over it for the rest of the day, but can’t see how to reassure him without going into all of it right then and there.

Rue doesn’t say anything, but Katniss knows she isn’t exactly focused for the rest of the day. The market customers come and go, and she has never been more relieved to pack up the stall and head out.

Prim left a note saying she’d be out with friends. She arrived home on winter break a few days ago, and she’s staying with Katniss rather than crowding into their mother’s tiny apartment in town, but she’s been so busy catching up with people that she may as well not be here at all. Katniss has been a bit annoyed that she has so little time for her sister, but tonight she’s glad to have the house to herself.

She’s wound up and nervous, so she takes some of the leftover produce and a packet of venison from the freezer and starts a stew, both to keep her hands busy and to hopefully show Peeta that she’s not angry with him. She texts him to bring bread to go with it, and spends some time cleaning up her house. It doesn’t get very messy, so that doesn’t take long.

Finally Peeta arrives. He gives her a hesitant smile and awkwardly kisses her. She had planned on waiting till after dinner to lay it all out, but this is too awful to endure.

She leads him over to the armchairs in front of the fireplace and sits down facing him.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta bursts out. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m not trying to do that. Please don’t break up with me over this.”

Katniss tries to speak but she feels that familiar choking feeling in her chest. She thought if she approached this conversation calmly she could handle it. But she can’t, and Peeta is too far away. Before she can even think it through she’s climbing into his lap and pressing her face into his neck. His arms come around her, and Katniss feels herself calming.

“I love you. I never want you to leave me,” she tells him.

“Okay, okay. That’s good. You had me scared. I love you too.” He pauses and she can practically hear him thinking. “Then, what’s wrong?”

“When I left you I went and talked to Madge. She helped me figure out some stuff. Stuff from when I was a kid. I think I need to tell you.”

Peeta gently adjusts her so he can look at her face. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I want to. It’s just hard okay? So - let me talk.” She leans her head back against his shoulder. “And it’s easier if you’re holding me.” He wraps his arms around her more tightly, and she relaxes there for a moment, reveling in how solid and safe he feels.

“You know my dad died when I was eleven.”

“Yeah. You told me. The mining company refused to pay his death benefits, but after a few years in court your lawyer proved they were at fault and you got a big pay out. I remember.”

“Well I never told you how bad it was after he died. How scared I was. How my mother was so lost without my dad that she could barely function, and how Prim and I didn’t even have enough to eat.” Katniss stops and takes a few deep breaths, willing herself to get through this. Peeta waits silently, his hand rubbing gently up and down her back.

“It was hard because, because before he died, we were happy. We didn’t have much money, but I didn’t really know that then. We had all this space to run wild, and my parents really loved each other and us, and then in a second it was all gone. I’ve never really felt safe again.”

“That’s terrible, and I’m sorry you went through that, but… I don’t understand what this has to do with right now…” he hesitates, clearly trying to avoid the words ‘marriage’ and ‘proposal’.

“I’m so scared I’ll end up like my mother. She may as well have died with him. If anything happened to you…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he squeezes her so tightly she has to push him away to take a breath. His breath hitches and he swipes at his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Katniss says, kissing his cheek.

Peeta shakes his head, “you didn’t, not really, it’s just, I don’t want anything bad to happen, I don’t but, it’s just, if you’re worried about ending up like your mom… You really do love me, and that’s,” he swipes at his eyes again. “You love me. For real.”

Katniss pulls him close again. “I don’t say it enough, I’m sorry if you doubt me,” she can feel him shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s not your fault, just my own stupid hangups from childhood, we make a crazy pair don’t we?” Peeta has been far more talkative than Katniss about things that happened when he was a kid, so she knows how he and his brothers bounced between antagonistic parents, who were more interested in using their children against each other than making them feel wanted. How anytime someone said they loved him it was because they wanted something from him.

“But I’ve gotta say,” and he gives one of those ridiculous laugh sobs, “that if you’re worried about losing me, marrying me is the best way to keep me right here.”

Katniss stomach turns over once, and then settles oddly into calm. Because Peeta is it for her. He is the man she wants to have beside her forever. Marrying Peeta doesn’t scare her. Losing him does. In fact, marrying him as soon as possible is sounding like a good idea. The closer he is, the better.

“Ok.”

“Ok what?”

“Ok. Let’s get married.” His face lights up with surprise and joy, and Katniss knows this is the right thing.

It’s a while before they finally sit down to dinner. Luckily venison stew isn’t something that’s ruined by simmering for a while.

“You sort of messed up the whole plan I had for proposing,” Peeta grouses, but he’s grinning.

“I knew you had it planned!” she says, laughing, and he blushes.

“So what do you think about next summer? We could do one of those cool farm-to-table events, huge long trestles with white tablecloths laid out in the orchard.”

Katniss frowns at the idea of people trampling all over her property, damaging the morels with high heeled shoes. “How would you feel about getting married in three and a half weeks?” She counters. Peeta stops eating and gives his best impression of a beached fish.

“Three and a half weeks? Are you crazy?”

“Madge had a cancellation, so she has it all organized anyway. We’d just need to make sure everyone can make it, and show up ourselves. It seems pretty simple.” She shrugs. Katniss has never seen the point of elaborate weddings. It seems extremely fortuitous that Madge had that cancellation. But Peeta looks horrified.

“But, all the details, how would you even find a dress in time? And the cake! How can I create the perfect cake in that amount of time?”

“In what amount of time?” Prim asks, coming in the back door, bring a cold draft with her.

“Oh Peeta doesn’t think three and a half weeks is enough time to plan our wedding,” Katniss tells her nonchalantly. It takes a few seconds, but then Prim lets out a shriek and throws her arms around her sister.

“Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow,” she squeals, directly into Katniss’ ear. She spins around and grabs Peeta. “Welcome to the family,” and Katniss can see he’s starting to get teary again. She’s met his brothers, and they seem to care about each other, but they aren’t the most affectionate of people.

“So, do you think we can make it happen in that amount of time?” she asks, before Peeta loses it.

Prim stops squealing and sits down at the table. “Hmm, I’m not sure. Why would you want to?” When she explains Madge’s situation, how she already has everything planned and ordered, and how little planning they’d really need to do, even Peeta starts to nod.

“You really want to do this?” he finally asks, and Katniss kisses him will all the love she has to offer him.

“I really do. I want to start my life with you.”

He half smiles at her, but she can see the anxiety still hovering. “Okay, let’s see if it’s possible. I’ll call my family in the morning and find out if they can make it in, and I guess you need to look into other stuff. We can talk tomorrow and see what we have.”

 

Katniss is woken when her sister bursts into her room. It’s early, but she’s usually up by now. Yesterday exhausted her.

Prim is practically dancing with anticipation.

“You have to come see what I’ve found. It’s perfect!” Katniss drags herself out of bed and follows her- way too happy for six a.m.- sister into her very pink room. She stops short when she sees what’s hanging on the door of the closet.

“Where did you get wedding dresses from,” she demands, and Prim giggles excitedly.

“From the attic! I woke up this morning and I remembered the trunks of clothes up there, so I’ve been digging through them. There’s others, but I picked these ones out for you.”

The first dress she produces is one Katniss recognises. It was her grandmother’s, she has a photo of her wearing it hanging in the hall. It’s a cute shift dress circa 1960, it looks like something she can handle. Simple, no nonsense, it looks cute on her.

Prim shakes her head over it. “I think you need something more elegant.”

The next one is a ruffled old-fashioned thing, and Katniss starts taking it off as soon as she sees her reflection. Definitely not.

With the next dress Prim makes her close her eyes and turn away from the mirror while she fastened the back. She’s waiting patiently (waiting at least) when she feels her start to tug at her hair. “Prim,” she says warningly, but her sister laughs.

“I want you to see the full effect, just give me a minute.” Katniss sighs, but lets her continue. In truth even though she hasn’t even had her coffee yet she’s starting to feel excited. She's trying on wedding dresses! She’s getting married! To Peeta!

And while generally she is happy to wear whatever’s practical and clean, it seems only fair that she gets to look pretty on her wedding day. And from the way Prim is humming with excitement, perhaps this dress will do that?

“Okay, turning you around, keep your eyes closed until I say,” Prim instructs, and Katniss sighs, but her reluctance is mostly show. If this dress is hideous she’s going to be very disappointed.

She’s not disappointed.

Katniss doesn’t know much about dress design, but she would never have chosen this off the hanger. The design seems simple, but it looks elegant and sophisticated. Not words typically used to describe her. The fabric seems to wrap itself around her, giving her slight curves more emphasis, and the creamy tone of the aged silk brings out the warm tones of her skin, making her look almost radiant.

Prim has twisted her hair around into a softer version of her usual braid, her hair waves around her face before curving across the back of her head.

It looks like Katniss, but more. She has never felt so beautiful in her life.

“Peeta’s eyes are going to bug out of his head like a cartoon character,” Prim states smugly, and the tears that were starting to form in Katniss’ eyes turn into laughter.

“Where did this dress come from?” Katniss asks. It seems like an oddly high-end dress to find in a farmhouse attic.

“I think it must be from that one uncle that went to New York in the twenties? Right? He got married, and then they ended up back here in the Depression?”

Katniss has never heard of them. She resolves to find out about this great-whatever uncle and aunt. She at least owes them that for this dress.

“I know it needs a few alterations, but I’m sure Hazelle can take care of that.” Katniss doesn’t know what she means, it looks perfect to her, but she trusts Prim’s judgement on these things.

After she is finally, finally allowed coffee and food, Katniss calls Madge, who is appropriately thrilled, not only about the wedding but the filling of the last minute cancellation, (she _is_ running a business.)

Their mother shows up a few hours later, and after Katniss models the dress again, she and Prim sit at the kitchen table and start making lists. They are more excited about it all than Katniss is. She wants to be married to Peeta, not worry about some elaborate wedding. She doesn’t know what they're even doing. Doesn’t Madge already have all this stuff done?

Peeta calls and Katniss is more than happy to shrug on a jacket and step outside to talk to him.

"So, how's it going?" He asks.

Katniss glances through the window at the two women hunched over notebooks. "It’s wedding central here, my mother and sister have gone into full planning mode."

"We're really doing this then?" His voice hesitates a little.

“Do you want to? I mean if this is too fast, if you’re not sure we can stop, wait…” Although as far as Katniss is concerned he was the one who suggested getting married. He should be glad it’s happening. Or perhaps he doesn’t want her as much as she thought? Maybe he’s second guessing the whole thing, now that it’s real.

“No, I’m certain. So certain. Are you?”

Relief. He still wants her. She takes a breath, thinks for a moment, just to be sure. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

\------------------

Katniss has to call Finnick.

Peeta is entirely wrapped up in the wedding planning, enthusiastic about every tiny detail. And the cake is a huge secret, she’s not even allowed to enter the bakery or speak to Thom or Leevy, in case they give something away.

She feels sort of unneeded. Dead weight. Besides going to look at bridesmaids dresses with Madge and Prim (they were the ones who made the choice anyway) she’s been given very little to do. Which is why she impulsively announced that she would plan the honeymoon.

It was a terrible idea. She’s spent hours on Travelocity and Kayak and every other travel website she can think of, and everything is either booked out or completely outside their budget.

But Finnick knows people, and places, and has ideas. Right?

“Dammit Katniss," is all he says.  A long silence. “Let me talk to Annie,” and then he ends the call.

Katniss spends the next hour cleaning. He must have something in mind, right? If he doesn’t come through they’ll be spending their honeymoon in her house. Peeta won’t care. But still. It would be like failing him, right away. How is that a good way to start a marriage?

“You owe, me like, so much,” Finn says when she answers on the first ring. Once she hears what he’s offering, she agrees.

“Next year, or whenever the baby’s weaned, I’ll watch your kids for a week so you can take a trip together,” she promises earnestly.

“I better be invited to the wedding too.”

Katniss laughs in relief. “Are you kidding? I’m surprised Peeta hasn’t hit you up for catering yet.”

“Just book the plane tickets. I have no power over airlines, so if you can’t make that happen, deal is off.”

Thirty minutes, some web surfing and a charge on her credit card later she messages Peeta.

Katniss: Honeymoon sorted. Hows that cake?

Peeta: Show Off.

 

When he asks to come hunting with her she can’t say no, even though he turns out to be the most frustrating of companions.

Of course she’s noticed that he can’t move silently in the woods. They’ve hiked together enough for her to know that. So she has a plan for that. She’s just going to take him to a hide and wait there.

What she wasn’t counting on was his complete inability to shut up.

She’s sighting a stag when he starts whispering about it’s majestic beauty, causing it to majestically leap to safety.

She bites back the urge to chew him out when she sees his contrite face.

“You’re not going to be able to sit here silently, are you?”

“I can be quiet. I promise!” She shakes her head. He can promise all he wants, but it’s not something he can follow through on. She knows him too well.

Katniss had her heart set on getting a deer for the wedding dinner. Peeta’s making the cake, and organising all of the catering, it only seems fair that she provide the meat. But it’s not going to happen today. And it’s hard to be mad. He’s so eager, yet, still so noisy.

She gives up and lays down her bow, and instead curls herself into his side.

“What are you doing? What about the deer?” he asks, confused.

“I can get a deer tomorrow, with Rory. I miss you right now,” she tells him. His arm goes around her.

“I know I’m a useless hunting partner.”

“Yet the best life partner,” and he grins as he leans down to kiss her.

\--------------------

In some ways the wedding is anticlimactic. Everyone that matters is able to make it, Peeta's parents maintain a frosty truce, and aside from a few minor issues everything goes according to plan.

Katniss hasn’t attended church since her father died, and it feels wrong to pretend to a faith she no longer follows simply to have someone to marry them. But even the solution to that is surprisingly simple. Haymitch, whom she was inviting anyway, mentions that he also has a license to officiate, and so he conducts a simple ceremony in front of the tall windows overlooking the fresh snowfall across Madge’s gardens. She can look over the same terrace steps she dashed down, upset about the idea of Peeta dating other women.

He’s never dating anyone else again.

After three frenetic weeks, and not being allowed to set foot in the bakery, and fittings, and lists and more minutiae than Katniss believed possible, she’s standing beside Peeta in Madge’s parlor, with all her friends and family behind her, and Haymitch Abernathy is saying “Husband and Wife,” everyone is clapping and cheering, and it’s the most strange and disjointed moment in her life.

Then Peeta kisses her. All the pieces fit together, and it’s magic.

It’s when he unveils the cake that she wants to cry. It’s clearly a labor of love, and he’s put the best of himself in this one elaborate piece of confectionary.

He looks anxious, as if she could be disappointed. “It’s the most beautiful cake I’ve ever seen,” Katniss tells him. He beams as everyone ohhs, and ahhs.

“Explain what it means,” Thom calls out, looking almost as pleased as Peeta.

The bottom tier is decorated with morels. “For when we first met,” Peeta says, and she leans into him.

He points to the second tier, with blackberry brambles climbing across it. “The first time we kissed.”

The apple blossoms on the third tier are obvious then. “The first time I told you I loved you,” Katniss whispers, but everyone hears and titters.

The top tier leaves her stumped. “Deer?”

“Well you did propose to me over venison stew.” Katniss looks at him. He knows very well that’s not how it was. But she’s not going to argue in front of everyone about how it really happened as they cried over their difficult childhoods.

“Deer?” she ask again, after everyone moves away.

He looks twitchy. “I guess it was more important to me,” when she looks blank he continues, “the other day, in the deer hide?”

Katniss frowns. “When I took you hunting? We didn’t even get anything. I had to go out two more times with Rory to get a deer for today.”

“Yeah, but you said it didn’t matter that I was a bad hunting partner, because I was a good life partner, and it felt like it was as important as all the other firsts. Because it felt like you not only love me, but you choose me. No one has ever chosen me like that.” He flushes. “Cheesy, I know.”

Katniss cups his cheek. “It’s our wedding day, we’re allowed to get a bit cheesy and sentimental.” She kisses him slowly and gently. “I choose you Peeta Mellark, for the rest of my life, and if I live forever, then that would be more time I get to spend with you. I need you and I love you.”

He leans his his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispers, “for choosing me, and allowing me to choose you back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the turn of the seasons is complete. I feel like once Katniss decided she wanted to get married any lengthy or elaborate planning would seem pointless. Peeta's lucky she didn't just want the registry office. Let me know what you think and whether it was worth the very long (sorry) wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Some foodie fluff for a change of pace.  
> I always find Katniss working an office job difficult to believe, and farming seems more like the sort of career she would choose. (plus fits with baker!peeta so well) What do you think?


End file.
